Bang Noir

Supernova By Delano Roberts

2014-08-31T18:31:00.001-07:00

When nineteen year old Noelle falls in love with her best friend’s crush, musician James Cash, she is sent down a turbulent road to her destruction. With a past of abandonment from her parents to ex-boyfriends, she’s unaware of what her friends and family see as a repeating of history. James becomes her addiction -- drugging her up enough with his romanticism to believe the void that she was born with had been filled. In time James becomes a rising musician after abandoning Noelle for a year, then returning to persuade her to abandon her dreams to go to NYU, and come with him back to Los Angeles.

By the time Noelle is able to see the truth about James in Los Angeles, she relapses back into his high after an accident. Noelle, with her collection of lyrics, lives a gypsy life and plays small clubs where she is discovered by James’ old manager. She is launched into the spotlight, becoming a symbol of rebirth and strength. As her fame grows, she hires an assistant, Veronica, a fan of Noelle’s. Veronica discovers that her idol is still living with the pain of losing James by compensating with pills. Veronica makes it her life mission, being called to Los Angeles by her heart to save the dying star, but Noelle’s life may have been already written by the stars she admires.

"Supernova" is available now for Kindle.

SUPERNOVA BY DELANO ROBERTS

Supernova by Delano Roberts Book Trailer

2014-08-31T18:24:00.001-07:00

Why Indie Musician Natalia Kills Is Inspired by Cleopatra by Maria Del Russo from PopSugar

2013-12-17T16:03:00.000-08:00

POPSUGAR

Natalia Kills was interviewed by Maria Del Russo of PopSugar. Here is what she had to say.

If you don't know who Natalia Kills is, you absolutely should. Not only does the British songstress have a slew of catchy tunes, like "Trouble" and "Saturday Night," to name a few, but she's also got one of the coolest beauty looks in the industry thanks to her blunt bangs, winged eyeliner, and statement eyebrows. She recently performed at Julep's new pop-up shop in NYC, giving us the perfect opportunity to catch up about why Cleopatra is her beauty muse, the one hair mistake she'll never make again, and exactly what's hiding out in her makeup bag.

POPSUGAR: So you have a very distinct beauty look. How would you describe it?

Natalia Kills: I would probably say it's like if Cleopatra and Dionne from Clueless met in a glitter fight.

PS: That's a pretty on-point description! Building off of that, how do you even begin to think about how to do your hair and makeup for Fashion Week? You were a front-row staple this past season.

NK: What's really interesting is, I had a wild night two weeks ago. I put all of my hair into a ponytail, and I was convinced I was Cleopatra. I had my friend cut my whole ponytail off so it would be like a short bob. But then I went to Leon, Spain, last week, and the humidity turned my hair curly. That's just a funny story about the way I decided how to look, and how to go about things. It's not just Fashion Week. It could be 5 a.m. and I'm overcome with this convincing thought to change. That's kind of my Fashion Week approach and all-around life approach.

PS: You've mentioned Cleopatra twice already. What is it about her that you find so inspirational?

NK: I like the version of her played in the movie by Elizabeth Taylor. I think if you can mix power with a sort of softness and femininity, it's really important. I think it's really important for women to play up their vulnerability. I know we live in a more feminist world full of equality and empowerment and independence, but I would like to have a sort of softness within all of that. That's why I love Cleopatra.

PS: You talk about the soft and approachable, but some of your looks are really bold! Do you feel like those big, bold beauty looks are more accessible and feminine?

NK: I think that I'm in a place now where I can evolve my style. I'm sort of known for eyeliner and very straight, fringe bangs. So I think that I can experiment with softness and silliness now in a way that I couldn't before because I branded myself in a way that I couldn't have been mistaken for anyone else. Now I can just add and subtract from the base of whatever I've already created.

PS: Speaking of adding and subtracting, if you were rushing out the door and you only had five minutes to do something beauty-wise, what would you go for?

NK: Eyes, definitely. The hair, you can just always wear a hat if you choose. But I think that the eyes are something you can't get away with not putting something of a personal touch into.

PS: Is there a skin care secret that you have to keep your skin looking so flawless, even though you wear a lot of makeup?

NK: Well, just don't put it on your face. I know that sounds crazy, and I know not everyone can get away with that, but I literally have on eyeliner and mascara. I know it looks like I'm wearing eye shadow in pictures, but generally I'm not, unless it's a photo shoot. And lipstick. And that's it. I don't put foundation or concealer on my actual skin because I think that's probably not what the skin wants.

PS: Are there any go-to products that you'll always have on you?

NK: Let me open my makeup bag up and see! I have a Maybelline Line Stiletto Precision Liquid Eyeliner ($7). I always use the blackest black of colors. I have MAC False Lashes Extreme Black Mascara ($21). And for the lips, it's tricky because I have almost 50 different colors and lip liners. I will never use a lipstick unless it has a liner with it. Ever.

PS: Do you have any beauty regrets?

NK: Yes, absolutely! For like a year and a half, somebody told me to change my style and to not wear bangs, because there were several other pop stars that had fringes at the time. And now, every single time I look back at a picture I can see my forehead and all of my curly, baby hair trying to stay finger waved down desperately and I'm just like "Oh, Natalia. Why did you do that?"

PS: I love your bangs! They fit your face perfectly.

NK: Thank you! I think I'll have them forever.

The Visit

2013-09-18T12:03:00.000-07:00

It's that time again to share a short story I wrote a few years back. It's been tweaked a little since I last put it out in the universe. I was going through a hard time when I wrote this. My mother had passed away. She had Cancer. I knew the only way I could put a resolution to my pain was to write a fictional story about it. I wanted to see her again. To hear her voice. It's hard not having your parents with you. Both of mine died young--within years of each other.
The context of this short is probably not explainable to an extend, because I mention a fight. It is something I am still coming to terms with and it really wasn't a fight--more of a denial that the truth was sitting on the edge of the bed between us.
But strength and moving forward were the last few things she said to me that night we got the news she would not be around much longer. My mother has pushed me ever since and even before then, with my writing. She saw my future and I haven't stopped.
This is open, like my heart, to share with you. Don't let my words block your criticisms of this short. You are entitled to your own feelings. My goal is for you to relate to something in the story. To be present with what is happening around you. To know that even when you desire to be around the ones you love, and loneliness has filled the spaces in-between, they are there. You have to look for them. Much love and please share and even comment.

It was a warm bright day outside. A few joggers ran by and a man with his two dogs moved past my right. The park was active with all sorts of people that day. The bench I sat on looked out at the river, where I could see a few boats move around. The water in the river was a beautiful blue color as the sun reflected off its surface making the water sparkle as if there were diamonds floating around in its current. I was close enough to hear the water splash up against the stone walkway that separated me from the river. A small breeze moved off the river, brushing across me and cooled things. It was as if it was all a dream.

I took out my journal to write a few things down so I could remember the details a little better. I wanted the experience to stay with me forever, I suppose. I pulled my phone out to check the time, as I stopped writing. It was still early and soon I would be hungry for lunch. I wanted to wait a little longer for her to get here. I hadn’t seen her for a very long time and the thought of her coming all this way to see me made me anxious.

I searched my memory for the last time we actually talked and it had been a few years ago. It was sad how things ended between us, but it was good that we still communicated and she wanted to see me. Those were difficult times though and she understood. I memory came to me—our fight. I was angry. It was terrible what two people would say to each other in order to avoid the truth. But you learn to accept what happened. I understood why she had to leave, but I was glad she came back and wanted to see me.

I took another glance at my phone for the time and then looked back out over the river, as a tourist boat sailed by with people looking out over at the monuments that were behind me. A hand reached out to me and touched my shoulder. I glanced at it and saw its red painted fingernails, her signature color. Instantly I smiled with excitement that she had arrived. I looked up at her with a huge smile on my face, as she was smiling back at me. Her hair was still curled and she wore a light purple flowered dress, with a long necklace that only had a couple of beads at the end. She looked beautiful in the sunlight. Her face was glowing. I stood up, walking around the bench to give her a hug.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” she said. We walked around the bench and took a seat. She leaned back and rocked her legs back and forth, like you would do if you were on a swing. She gazed out toward the river, watching it move in ripples. Her eyes moved around looking at everything, as if she hadn’t seen any of it before. She then settled into the bench and saw that I had my journal with me. “Are you still writing?”

“Yes,” I said. “I think I write in my journal more than anything.”

“There is nothing wrong with that,” she said. “You will make something of it eventually. Just stick with it, you’ll see.” She picked up the journal from my lap. She opened it and thumbed through it. I could see her eyes moving across the pages as she absorbed my words into her mind. She would make an expression here or there when she read something interesting. “I can tell you’ve come a long way.”

“Thank you,” I said. Her opinion was important to me. She encouraged me from day one to be myself. To work hard and do what I love. I sat there in silence watching her. I wanted to remember how she looked. The sound of her voice was soft spoken and happy. I could remember she smiled a lot and it was a relief that she still did. Nothing had damaged her from my memory and that was great. It was nice to see that time had been good to her.

I felt guilty as a memory of her flashed through my head. It was the fight we had years ago. It was the last time I actually saw her before she left me. I pushed back the memory, because I didn’t want to drag it out. I didn’t want to remember that time. Today was a better memory than then. I took a deep breath as she sat my journal down between us. She turned to me searching my face and then she realized what I had been thinking.

“It’s okay, you know,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s okay for you to talk about it,” she said. It was strange how she knew but I felt compelled to let it all out.

“I’m sorry for that day,” I apologized. She smirked waving at me as if it was nothing.

“I’m not worried about it,” she said. “You were scared for me and didn’t want to hear what I had to say.”

“That’s true, but I should have listened,” I said. “In some ways I feel like I let you down.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “You didn’t let me down at all. We both knew that day was coming and when it did; neither of us was prepared for it.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said, looking out over the river. “I still feel bad, because I know you felt alone and what I said didn’t help you.”

“We were both alone that night.” She reached over taking my hand bringing my attention back to her. “I was happy that you were there and that you decided to help. You sacrificed a lot for me. You gave back when no one else would,” she said.

“You’re just saying that to me to make me feel better,” I said. My eyes watered from what she was saying. I wiped my eyes. Now wasn’t a good time for crying. I wanted to have fun and enjoy myself. I didn’t want to feel sad or regretful.

“I’m not just saying that.” She smiled, touching her hand to my face. “You can forget that other nonsense and let’s focus on this visit.” I agreed with her and hugged her again. She felt warm in my embrace. She picked up my journal handing it to me. “There are some good stories in here and some good poems too. It’s nice to know you haven’t stopped writing,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said. I looked into her hazel brown eyes; a little bit of green gleamed from them as the sun caught them just right. We had the same eye color. “So tell me what you’ve been up to lately?”

“Nothing much,” she said. “I’ve mostly been relaxing.”

“Relaxing? I figured you would be dancing a lot.” She laughed. “Why is that funny?”

“Because you’re the only person I ever told that to,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to be a dancer. I was very good at it. I had talent. I was better than any of the other girls that I knew.” She smiled, feeling proud.

“I believe that,” I said. “I guess I got the talent from you.” We both laughed. She squeezed my hand in hers.

“I want to walk around,” she said. “Can we walk for a little?”

“Of course,” I said. We both got up from the bench hand in hand. We walked up on the grass and made our way through the park to where the trees made shady spots so we could sit.

“I have missed this.”

“Me too,” I said. “Although you shouldn’t tire yourself out.” I pointed to a tree that sat on a hill. The grass was very green. It was a good spot to stop and rest.

“Nah, that’s not possible anymore,” she said. We took a seat under the tree. She took off her shoes so she could place her feet on the soft grass. She leaned back letting her hands glide across the grass blades, until she was on her back. I lay down beside her and we stared up at the sky. “This all feels so good.”

“It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it?” She nodded her head in acknowledgment.

“I think I’m over dressed for today,” she said.

“Nah, you look great.”

“You always say that.”

“Well it’s true.”

“Well I guess I should be use to over dressing by now,” she said smiling. “I don’t want this day to end.”

“I don’t want it to end either.” I took her hand. We both looked up at the sky as a plane flew over us. We both were always amazed at how we as human beings could accomplish such feats. We defy human limits every day, yet we limit ourselves with trivial things. Then again, there are things that take us away, things we have no control over. We looked at each other.

“I have to go,” she said. I knew it was coming. I didn’t want it to come. I held her hand tighter. I wanted to keep her with me. I didn’t know how I would continue without her in my life. I didn’t want us never being able to see other again. “I’m glad I got to spend this time with you.”

“I’m glad too. I missed you a lot, mom.”

“I missed you too.”

She got up from the ground and I followed. I quickly hugged her. It had been too long. I stared into her eyes and wished I could go with her.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you don’t and believe me, I don’t want to go either,” she said. “I will see you again.”

“Will you? It’s just that our time seems to be so limited.”

“I know, but that’s just how it is right now.”

“What can I do for you while you’re away?”

“Tell everyone I love them.”

“I will do that.”

“And most of all, don’t forget me,” she said.

“I will never forget you,” I said hugging her tight. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

We continued to hug and then she was gone. Everything around me continued as usual, as if she were never there. I made my way back to the bench and sat back down looking out at the river. It’s water flowed unevenly across the breakers. I opened my journal and began to write down her visit. Today would never leave me. It was something I would share one day with others. I took a deep breath and sighed. For all those years, I felt lost and alone, yet she was still with me. I kept my promises to her and I knew she was with me, even at that moment I sat on the bench.

“This place is beautiful,” I said, as the wind blew past me. She agreed.

THE FAR FLUNG STAR - official movie trailer www.DIKENGA.com

2013-09-05T17:59:00.001-07:00

Stardom: A Review of Steve Balderson's The Far Flung Star by William Butler

2013-09-05T17:39:00.000-07:00

A dimming star. A secret message written on a post card. The adventure that's just around the corner.

Diana Dunbar (Christa Engelbrecht) is falling out of the light of stardom. The recognition she desperately wants can only lie within reach--so she hopes. When her brother Ian shows up with some questionable characters on his tail, the adventure begins. Diana now has to help her brother figure out what the riddled message is that his dead boyfriend sent her, before they are captured and killed by their pursuers.

The Far Flung Star is a comedy adventure that takes you from LA to Hong Kong. With amazing scenes and an equally amazing musical number, which reminds me of Marlene Dietrich. I couldn't stop laughing at the situations and banter between the characters.

Steve Balderson has done it once more. He brings to life an adventure spy-comedy filled with amazing scenes and equally amazing actors. Garrett Swan plays Van--one of the many pursuing Christa Engelbrecht's character. He is dead-on with his comedic timing.

The Far Flung Star will give you laughs. It will give you adventure. It will give you romance. And in the end, which I won't tell you, you have to ask will any of the characters get what they are seeking?

The Far Flung Star premieres September 30, 2013 at Raindance.

Get Tickets here:

The Far Flung Star

Homosexuality in Africa

2013-08-25T06:30:00.001-07:00

Let's help make this happen!! Any amount will help. There are voices and problems in the world that need to be brought to light. It is insane that people have to live in fear of being themselves. Help make this project happen.

Homosexuality in Africa

Hello!

My name is Thabang Mnculwane the director of TC productions cc South Africa, Together with my patner Charles we are bringing you a documentary called Homosexuality in Africa. This will be our second film as writer/director. Our first feature, free yourself (2009), played in some great film festivals around the country.

Homosexuality in Africa, will take the nations by storm as it will be shot in six different countries in two months, We will start from south Africa going through to Kenya,Zimbabwe , Nigeria , Egypt and Chad.

We will travel across Africa bringing you stories of young old, open and closeted gay, lesbian and bi-sexuals individuals and couples,

We will interview the people, the community members and the leaders , ie the religious and political leaders of the above mentioned countries.

This will bring out the raw truth of how people feel about homosexuality and what can be done to prevent the killings, the brutality etc. etc. . . .

The production of Homosexuality in Africa is going to be the biggest in the history of African Television - a documentary you will be proud to be a part of. We will be using the state of the art equipment that we own, that includes our cameras lights and the software needed to complete the documentary.

Please help TC productions cc make this documentary a reality! We are both so grateful to have your support in everything and we have a strong feeling that Homosexuality in Africa will be a documentary that will touch and change people’s lives around the world forever.

Homosexuality in Africa

The Calm

2013-08-18T15:46:00.001-07:00

I want to share with you a short story I wrote called The Calm. It's a disturbing and candid story about abuse, ignorance, acceptance, and much much more. When writing this I was experimenting with tension between characters and nature. Melodrama fuels the story until the end, but I think that's what creates the intense moments between the characters.

The Calm is ruthless in its portrayal of the struggle for acceptance and freedom. It's also tragic and maybe redemptive. It's written to stir emotions and make you angry or upset. If you feel that then I succeeded at what I was trying to accomplish. You be the judge. Enjoy.

THE CALM

The wind blew hard outside knocking open the screen door for the third time today. Jean ran over grabbing at the handle to pull it shut. She closed the door, but not before she locked the screen door so it wouldn’t blow open again. The storm was coming and Jean didn’t know what to do other than continue to make dinner and iron clothes. The television was blaring the news telling her that she should prepare for the worse.

“What was that noise,” Linda asked from her bedroom.

“The damn screen door blew open again,” Jean said. She wiped her hands on her apron and then walked back into the kitchen to stir the steaming pot of chicken. She was going to make Kevin’s favorite meal tonight. He loved chicken and dumplings and she wanted tonight to be special.

“The what,” Linda called again from her bedroom.

“The screen door,” Jean yelled, but stopped. She walked into Linda’s bedroom as she wiped her hands again on the apron. Linda moved from one end of her room to the next. Jean watched her as she placed a few mementos into her bag. “The screen door blew open again.” Linda stopped long enough to look at her mother.

“Again…that’s the third time today,” she said.

“That’s what I said,” Jean said softly as she walked over to Linda’s bed picking up a picture of them two. Jean stared at it for a moment. She remembered the day they took that picture. It was at Hollis Park during the fireworks for the Fourth of July. They were so happy then, not like now. “There’s someone missing from this picture.”

“And rightly so,” Linda said. “I removed him from the picture. He doesn’t deserve to be a part of that happy day.”

“Linda, you can’t just remove your father from a picture like that.” Linda laughed as she pulled a shoebox from the top shelf of her closet. “Sure I can. It was easy to do, mom, I just took scissors and snipped him out of my life,” she said.

“Life isn’t like that dear, you can’t just snip him out of your life like you can the picture,” Jean said. She smiled at the picture. Linda fell onto the bed bouncing a few times before she settled. She opened the shoebox and took the picture from her mother.

“But don’t you wish you could, momma?” She slipped the picture into the box and closed the lid. “Only if you could just snip away,” she said as she gestured her fingers like she was cutting paper. “Snip…snip.”

“Oh, child, you are a mess,” Jean said feeling nervous suddenly. She looked at her daughter who seemed very confident—happy. Linda sensed what her mother was thinking and reached over taking her hand into her own. She then hugged her.

“It will be okay, mom. I’m going to be just fine.” Linda pulled back and after rubbing her mother’s arms kissed her on the cheek. “That is after I get out of here.” She stood up from the bed and went over the inventory in her head of what she was going to take with her. The wind blew hard outside making the house creek a little. Linda stopped running over things in her head turning her attention to her window. Her face changed showing her concern. “I hope this calms down long enough for me to go.”

“I don’t see any reason why you should leave today or ever for that fact,” Jean said folding her hands together in her lap. Linda turned to her mother.

“Are you kidding me,” she said. “I can’t believe you said that to me.”

“Well it’s true, Linda, you don’t have a real reason to leave this house…leave me,” she said.

“Is that what this is about?”

“No…yes,” Jean said. “I love you and I don’t want you to leave.”

“But, mother, I have to leave,” Linda said. “I have to go or I will end up doing something terrible…”

“Stop talking like that, child,” Jean said feeling shaken. Her eyes watered at the thought of Linda even… “I will not sit here and have you say such sinful things.”

“Well it’s true!”

“Stop talking about it,” Jean yelled, the tears falling from her eyes.

“Why so you can deal with things a little better? Face the facts, mom, I was going to runaway or kill myself. It was one or the other and you knew it.”

“Stop please stop,” Jean pleaded. “I don’t want to think that you would have ever considered committing such an act.” Linda settled back onto the bed next to her mother.

“I’m sorry for even letting you know. I just had it with everything…with him,” Linda said. “I just couldn’t take another day living with that abusive pig.”

“Linda, that’s your father you’re talking about,” Jean said.

“Oh there you go…defending him. Why do you do that?” Linda slid off the bed with disgust. “You defend him too much and one day I hope you finally see him for the monster he is,” she said. “It’s only a matter of time, I tell you. You’re going to wake up one day and ask yourself where has everyone gone.” Linda pointed her finger at her mother as she talked to her. “You’re going to regret letting your life get away…your youth.”

“My youth,” Jean said with a huff. “I still have my youth.”

“No you don’t.” Jean looked at Linda like she was angry at what she said. Insulting her like that.

“I do…”

“No…you don’t,” Linda said. “You gave that up when you married him. He bled you dry like he was trying to do to me. But I’m not going to let him.” Jean looked down at the bed. It was hard for her to hear what was coming from her daughter’s mouth.

“You forget how much he has done for us,” Jean said.

“He hasn’t done a damn thing for me,” Linda said. “But you have…you have helped me out a lot. And I’m grateful for that.” She walked over to her mother and hugged her again. Jean stood up from the bed and continued to embrace her daughter. Tears pouring from her eyes.

“It’s the least I could do,” she said as a beeping noise came from Linda’s pocket. They pulled apart long enough for Linda to pull her cell phone from her pocket. She checked the text message and smiled. “Is that her?”

“Yes,” Linda said smiling. When she said it, she even sounded happy. “Oh, momma, do you have to worry so much.”

“Linda, I want the best for you, but I don’t know about this,” Jean said.

“It will be okay. I’m happy and I thought that was what you wanted.”

“I…I do my child. I do want you happy.” They hugged again. The wind blew a hard gush against the house as something slammed hard against the screen door making both women jump. The bang came again accompanied by a man yelling.

“Jean open the door and let me in,” the man yelled.

They both looked at each other.

“He wasn’t supposed to be home before I left,” Linda said worried.

“I know…I know,” Jean said holding her daughter’s arms.

“What should we do?”

“Jean damn it let me in this house,” he screamed banging on the door.

“Honey text Beth and let her know you’re going to be late. Your father is home. They must have let them go early from the plant because of the weather,” she said.

Linda wiped under her eyes erasing the tears her and her mother shared. She then picked her bag up off the bed and slid it under it to hide it from her father. Jean walked up to the door and opened it as Kevin slammed his fist down onto the screen door again.

“Let me in now, woman,” he screamed.

“Hold on I’m here,” she said and unlatched the screen door. The wind blew it open hitting Kevin in the head. Jean snickered a little, but suddenly dropped it when Kevin pulled at the door and kicked it until it broke off its hinges. He threw it onto the porch, letting the wind carry it out into the yard. Kevin walked into the house and slammed the door hard, which made it echo in the house.

“You think that’s funny?” Kevin stared at Jean, which made her move away from him. “The damn boss let me go early due to the storm coming. You know what that means…,” he said not really expecting Jean to answer. “It means that my paycheck will be small. Damn weather!”

“I’m sorry about that,” Jean said. “But it’s a good thing that you are home and not in this mess.”

“Shut up Jean,” he said sneering at her. Kevin walked in glancing at Linda who stood in the doorway of her bedroom. He pulled off his shoes and coat throwing them on the floor. She watched him as he moved through the house finally settling in his chair. Jean picked up his coat and slid his shoes by the door. She folded the coat and motioned for Linda to come over.

“Go put your bag by the window and I will pass it out to you,” she said, winking at her daughter. Linda smiled pulling out her phone to send a text to Beth. She walked into her bedroom and pulled her bag out from under it placing it by the window. She peeked outside. Her phone beeped and she checked the message. She sent another text and looked out the window again. A car that was parked a few houses down flashed its lights two times. Linda sent another text, smiling. Linda left the room walking back into the living room where her parents were. Jean stirred the chicken and added the dumplings to the mix. It wasn’t much longer and the food would be done. Jean looked over at her daughter who seemed to be cautious as she moved through the room. “Linda could you please run over to Mrs. Beamer’s house and see if they would like to come over here to wait the storm out with us?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea mom. Jerry is out of town and she shouldn’t be over there by herself anyways.”

“I know, and poor little Peggy will be crying for sure if the power went out,” Jean said nodding at her daughter as if to say goodbye. Jean looked as if she were about to cry as Linda slowly made her way over to the door.

“No one is going anywhere,” Kevin said. He stood up from his chair.

“Why not?” Linda couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

“Because you idiot there is a storm going on outside. You shouldn’t be crossing the street. Besides I don’t give two-shits about that damn woman,” he said.

“Kevin,” Jean said.

“Well it’s true. She is one annoying woman…next to you two that is.”

“But dad we really should check on them…just in case…”

“What the hell did I just say,” he yelled. “No one is going anywhere. Now you get away from that door before I come over there and…”

“And what…” Linda asked, ready to fight.

“I will hit you girl. You’re not too old for me to hit you,” he said shaking his fist at her.

“I would like to…”

“Now Linda, let’s not start this today,” Jean said, her voice scared. Linda backed off from saying anything and Kevin sat back down in his chair. He turned the television up letting the reporter’s voice fill the room with his report on the coming storm. As he spoke, it began to rain hard. Linda sent a text to Beth as both Jean and her walked over to the window to see if the rain was coming down as hard as it sounded. It was—it was pouring down hard from the sky. Jean could barely see anything outside. The two women looked at each other. “Just be patient, dear, the time will come.”

“What are you two women up to?”

Jean and Linda pulled themselves from the window startled by Kevin’s sudden intrusion. They didn’t know what to say to him as he looked at them with an eyebrow cocked on one side.

“We’re up to nothing silly man,” Jean teased him.

“Well you two stop acting all ‘silly’ and get dinner ready. The weather man says that a tornado may hit and I don’t want to be squatting in a bathtub on an empty stomach,” he said. Linda rolled her eyes as her phone beeped. She pulled the phone from her pocket and looked at the message Beth sent her. She looked up at her father who was looking at her and the phone. Linda slipped the phone into her pocket. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out plates as she started to set the table. Kevin took his seat at his chair waiting for them to finish. He then turned the television toward the kitchen table as he walked over to take a seat at it. He didn’t want to miss a single thing the reporter had to say when it came to the storm. He wanted to make sure he didn’t need to run and take cover.

The wind and rain hit hard against the house making it creek and groan. Jean thought for a moment that the walls were going to cave in on them, but the house held tight. She scooped out the chicken and dumplings from the pot and placed a portion of the meal in each of their plates. Kevin didn’t hesitate as he dug into his meal with the bread he snatched up from the breadbasket that Linda sat on the table. He didn’t even wait for her to sit the basket down before he started taking from it. Linda hated him. She hated everything he was and wanted desperately to leave the house. Why couldn’t she just get up and walk out? What stopped her from doing that—him? Her phone beeped and she pulled it from her pocket.

“Put that damn phone away right now,” Kevin demanded.

“It’s not hurting anyone,” Linda said. “I’m not a kid anymore dad, you can’t tell me I can’t have my phone out.”

“What did you just say to me, girl?”

“I said I am an adult and I can have my phone out if I want to have it out,” Linda said.

“Now, Linda…” Jean started to say.

“You stop right there! Don’t you try to stop this piece of shit from saying what’s on her mind,” Kevin yelled, food spitting from his mouth as he talked.

“Kevin!”

“Shut your mouth woman and let the abomination speak!”

“Abomination! I’m the abomination!”

“You heard me,” he said, slamming his fist down onto the table. “Your kind, are a waste in this world.”

“I am not going to listen to this.”

“I knew I should have given you up the day you were born…the day you came up to us and told us about…”

“Kevin, please stop this!”

“Shut your mouth, Jean! This is my house and I will say what I damn well please and you or… HER… will not tell me differently,” he screamed. His voice roared almost as loud as the storm raging outside.

“Please let’s not do this today…please,” Jean cried.

“You’re dead to me girl. In fact I do believe I never had a child.”

“Kevin!”

“Jean I said shut up,” Kevin screamed and threw his plate across the room. The plate shattered and landed all over the kitchen. He then slammed his fist into the table again as he stood up from his chair. “Every time I start saying something true you have to jump in and try to stop me.”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Kevin. I just don’t want you to say anything that you will regret.”

“Damn you woman,” he yelled and held his hand up ready to slap her.

“Stop right there! Don’t you hit her!” Linda stood up running around the table to be between her parents as the power went out. Everything went dark which startled Linda for a moment. She could barely see her father’s rage in the dark, but she heard her mother whimper behind her. Jean ran off from the room and into her own room. Kevin mumbled something hateful under his breath as he punched the table again. He walked over to his chair in the living room and sat down in the darkness. Linda stood there in the darkness—in the silence. “You’re a hateful old man. You don’t deserve her. You don’t deserve anyone.”

“You are nothing to me and we never wanted you. You were a mistake,” he said. Linda walked out of the room. She knocked on her mother’s bedroom door. She pushed it open walking in. Her mother laid on the bed with her face buried into the pillow.

Jean felt like a little girl again. She was crying because her daddy was punishing her for doing something wrong. It was funny how she ended up marrying a man that was just like her own father. Jean for a moment tried to remember what it was like when she first met Kevin. What was it that attracted her to him? She couldn’t remember and actually, she didn’t care anymore. The words of her own daughter echoed in her head about wondering where everyone went. She didn’t want to live like that.

“Are you okay?” Linda lay down next to her mom putting an arm around her.

“I will be fine,” she said. They whispered softly to each other.

“You know you can always come with me,” she said.

“I would be a third wheel,” Jean said smiling.

“No, you would be free and you could meet someone who will treat you better than that asshole,” she said. Jean laughed quietly.

“I couldn’t leave. I’m not as strong as you,” she said.

“I think you will surprise yourself at how strong you really are,” Linda said. “I don’t want to leave and have to think that you will be trapped here with him. I couldn’t bear the thought.”

“Then don’t go,” Jean pleaded.

“I have to go. I can’t spend another day in this house with him and his ignorance.”

“I was ignorant like him too,” Jean said.

“No…not like him. You accepted me for who I am and I love you for that,” she said. “Beth and I are going to be happy because of you. But you can be happy too, mom. You don’t have to live this way.”

“I know, dear, I know. I just wouldn’t know what to do…I wouldn’t know how to live.”

“That’s the great thing about starting over. You can make it however you want, good or bad. Besides you will have me and Beth to support you.” Jean smiled at her daughter. She bit her finger and shook her head up and down. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” she said feeling good inside. It was a feeling that she had never felt before—or at least in a very long time. A creek sounded from outside the door of the room and the two women paused in the silence. They looked at each other.

“Do you think…”

“I’m not sure,” Jean said. She took a hold of Linda’s hand and shook it.

“What are we going to do?”

“We have to get out of the house. That’s the first thing we need to do. Is Beth waiting for you?”

“Yes, she is a few houses down. If this storm wasn’t going on, we would have been out of here already. It would be too risky for us to drive away in this weather anyways…even if we get out of the house,” she said.

“But still we would have made it that far,” Jean said feeling confident.

“Then I say we go. He can’t stop us both if we leave together.”

“Yes, I agree,” Jean said. Both the women rose up from the bed making their way into the living room. They looked around for Kevin, but didn’t see him. They walked over to the door and Jean unlocked it. Just then, a beep came from Linda’s cell phone. Both of the women froze. Out of habit, Linda searched her pocket for her phone, but it wasn’t there. A light flicked on from the corner of the living room. It was the light from Linda’s phone. The blue light that came from the phone illuminated Kevin’s face.

“So she’s here,” he said in a low growl. “You were planning on running out on me and your mom.” Linda took a deep breath gulping air into her throat. Her mouth was dry.

“Yes,” she said. “I want out of this place. I want to be away from anything and everything that has to do with you.”

“Really,” he said. Linda didn’t answer him. The silence was his answer. “Where do you think you’re going?” Jean fumbled with the door handle as she tried not to even look at Kevin. She didn’t want to answer him. The wind howled outside and beat the rain against the house. “Well!?”

“I…I’m going to leave with Linda,” she said finally.

“Really?”

“Yes,” she said.

“You think you can do that? You think I will let you just walk out of this house with this piece of shit!” Kevin walked up to them both. He threw Linda’s cell phone across the room. She heard it slam against the wall. It sounded like the phone broke, but Linda didn’t care—it was a small price to pay for freedom. “You’re not going anywhere!” Kevin shoved Jean away from the door. She fell backwards and onto the floor.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Linda yelled and slapped her father. Kevin looked at Linda with a fury. His face turned red and his eyes watered with what she described in her head as hate. Kevin slapped Linda in the head and then slapped her again. Her face stung from the hit, which made her cry from the pain, but it didn’t stop her from yelling. “You can hit me all you want asshole. Mom, run! Go! Leave now,” she screamed. Kevin wrapped his hand around Linda’s throat as he balled up a fist, punching her. She screamed as he pushed her backwards into her room. Linda’s bedroom door slammed shut preventing her from leaving.

Jean ran up to the door banging on it.

“Stop this! Stop this, Kevin! Let me in!” She pounded her fists into the door as she heard her daughter scream in pain as Kevin’s fists pounded into her. Jean could hear the hits as his fists made contact with her body.

“Momma, run,” Linda cried from the room.

“Kevin, stop doing this,” Jean cried as tears poured from her eyes. Jean slowly fell to her knees as the screams and hits slowly came to a stop. “Stop…please…stop,” she said softly through her tears. The door to Linda’s room opened. Kevin stood in the doorway for a moment and then brushed past Jean, who was still kneeling on the floor. She heard the faucet to the kitchen sink come on. He was washing his hands. Jean looked into the room. She shook as she crawled into the darkness. The room ransacked. Her fingers fumbled across the floor as her eyes settled onto Linda’s hand hanging over the edge of the bed. She didn’t move. Jean wiped her nose and eyes. “Baby…” she called softly. No answer. “My baby…Linda…” she called to her. Jean reached up with her fingers and lightly touched Linda’s fingers with her own. The touch was just enough for Jean to know that her daughter was dead. “No! No…no…no…no,” she cried. “You killed her!” Jean bent over holding her stomach as she felt the pain of losing her beloved daughter. Linda’s lifeless hand reaching out to her. She sacrificed her freedom so Jean could run away. So she could be free. Jean lay on the floor for a moment.

“Woman, get in here and fix me another plate of food…I’m still hungry,” he called from in the living room. Jean didn’t move…her body was limp and she didn’t want to feed the asshole. She didn’t care anymore. “Jean don’t make me come in there and drag your ass from that room.” Just then, the lights came back on and Jean opened her eyes. A few inches in front of her was the picture of her and Linda at Hollis Park. Jean reached over and picked it up. “About time the lights came back on. That means the storm is almost over. Jean, get in here…now!”

“Coming,” she said softly. Jean pulled herself off the floor and walked back into the living room.

“About damn time,” he said. “Now fix me another plate.”

“Yes,” she said in a daze. “I will do that for you.” Jean walked into the kitchen slipping the picture into her pocket. She grabbed a plate and the pot of chicken and dumplings. Kevin turned the television to a comedy show. Laughter came out of the television as Jean walked over and laid the plate in front of him. She scooped the meal from the pot and filled his plate up.

“Damn woman this is so good today,” he said. She couldn’t believe he was acting like he didn’t just kill their daughter. Jean watched him as he laughed with the television show. She held the pot in her hand looking through the steam, which came from the pot, at him. He caught her looking at him. “Damn it woman go find something to do.”

“Okay,” she said softly. Jean flung the hot steaming meal at Kevin’s face. He screamed in pain as the hot liquid burned his skin. Kevin stood up wiping at his face with his hands.

“You bitch,” he screamed. Kevin narrowed his eyes at Jean, his face red from the liquid burns. Jean slammed the pot into Kevin’s face making him fall backwards. Before he could recover, she slammed his head again, this time making him fall to the floor. As if she wasn’t herself, Jean straddled Kevin and brought the pot down onto his head repeatedly. The television laughed as she laughed. They laughed together. The sound of the pot hitting Kevin’s face was like meat hitting a table before the butcher would cut it up. After awhile, though, it began to sound mushy and that was when Jean finally stopped hitting him.

A knock came to the door.

“Jean,” a woman called. Jean stood up off her husband’s dead body. She noticed that the storm had stopped. Jean walked over to the door as a knock came to the door again.

“Jean,” a man called. She opened the door and stared at the three people looking at her.

“Oh, Jean, we were so worried. I saw your screen door laying in the yard and I thought something bad had happened to you,” the older woman said. She looked at Jean with an odd expression. “Honey, are you alright? Jean?”

“Jean,” the man said.

“I…I killed my husband,” she said quietly. The old woman looked at Jean as if she wasn’t sure if she heard her correctly.

“You what?”

“I killed Kevin,” she said. The old man walked past Jean and into the house.

“Dear God,” he cried. “Quickly we need to call 9-1-1.” The old woman ran past Jean to see what he was yelling about. The other person walked up to Jean. She was unaware of what was happening in the house.

“Mrs. Battle, I’m Beth…Linda’s…” Jean looked at the young woman standing in front of her. Jean smiled.

“Beth,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Mrs. Battle, is Linda okay?”

“Linda…” Jean said as her mind moved off to the picture in her pocket. Jean reached into her pocket and pulled it out. It was a little wrinkled but it was okay. Beth walked past Jean and into the house. There was a scream from inside the house as Jean walked out onto the porch. She took in a deep breath and watched as the sides of the house dripped. In the distance, the sound of sirens rang out. Jean walked out on to the steps of the house looking up to the sky. The sun peeked through the clouds brightening everything. She walked away from the house and started down the road—not even noticing the ambulance and police vehicles speed past her. She stared at the picture of her and Linda as she walked down the road to her freedom.

Oblivion

2013-08-13T20:28:00.001-07:00

Oblivion is a short Flash Fiction story I wrote 2 years ago. I want to share it with you now. It tells a short twisted story about a dark desire for death. For years I have, as a writer, worked on my craft. A writer--writes. And continues to experiment with new and interesting ways to tell a story. This is one. It reads like a poem. It's twisted and dark.

OBLIVION

I know you’re watching me. I know you watch me a lot at this place. It’s fairly crowded with businessmen and women. I drink my hot coffee and I know you drink your coffee too. But you prefer your coffee cold with ice. I know this because before I can see you, you have vanished. I have walked over to where you leave your cup—sweat still dripping off the sides like the sweat off our skin when I imagine us holding each other tight.

I imagine what your eyes look like and I see them as being green. I like that color and I think green suits you—in my mind.

Today I think you wore gray jogging pants and a dark yellow t-shirt with something scribbled on it. But you always ware a baseball cap. The same one you have always worn while you sat here watching me.

I pick up your cup and hold it feeling its wetness in my hands and at that moment I want to lick the cup—like it was your body. I want to taste the salt from your skin and lick it off my lips.

I don’t know what it is that you do to me. I like being watched by you. I like not knowing who you are or what you look like. And if I ever turn around to look at you. To catch your eyes you must stop me.

You have to run over to me and stop me from giving into an impulse. I want to feel your warm grip wrap around my neck as you force me face down into the water fountain. Your grip tightening as I struggle to get free. My heart races with each gulp of water that goes down my throat as I try not to breathe. You excite me this way.

I felt myself getting hard just thinking about it. I cross my legs so no one can see—see my struggle from your grip. My life is in your hands and I welcome you to free me. I can feel you behind me now…as I struggle—I’m so helpless. You’re in control and in a way you know this.

Eventually I will stop struggling and let you finish me off. I will let you touch me afterwards so you can know me. And before I actually fade off into death’s hands…I will know you.

My chest will be tight with water and my lips blue—begging for you to put life back in them. But even if you choose not to…in death I will know you—your touch—your heartbeat as you push me deeper into my water grave—your love for me as I catch glimpses of you from under the ripples of my struggle.

And like always I wake from this dream and you’re gone. What you leave behind are my treasures to keep. And like the cup, I too hope to someday hold your fingerprints on my body…so I can treasure them—remember them before I fade off into oblivion.

2013-06-08T18:52:00.000-07:00

Let's Help Spence get into the studio

Description

This Is Spence
Everyone who is striving to be something will encounter what some might consider "unfair" circumstances. Have you ever met someone that was handed them something on a silver platter, without having to work for it? If you haven't yet you will at some point. You're working hard, being persistent and keeping your integrity so you can get to where you want to be. Then someone comes right in and gets it handed to them simply because of "Favoritism" or "Knowing the Right People". What happens after this? You feel lost, confused, and ask yourself "Why am I putting my heart and soul into this when someone else can simply take it with minimal sacrifice?"

No Excuses...
This isn't sour grapes nor do we feel entitled to anything. We just want to note that throughout the years, this has been our lives. We aren't the ones who "Know People in High Places". We aren't the "Chosen Ones" in the eyes of people with "Power". Everything we've accomplished has only been through the love and care shown by our supporters, and our love of the music, and our fans and friends. At the end of the day we don't want any excuses, because placing the blame on a circumstance would be the easy way out. We want to prove it's not about "Who You Know"... it's about making the best of the hand you were dealt and proving all the detractors wrong. We're in this for the long haul and more than ever, we need those who have gotten us this far by our side. We will be persistent on this journey and in time we will reach where we want to be.

Lets Get Spence in The Studio...Spence has independently completed 4 tours with each one being more successful because of the tremendous support shown so far. Now Spence needs to get back in the studio, and properly release a new album followed up by more tour dates than ever before! We aren't looking for a hand out. We want to reward our friends, family, and supporters with some unique gifts.

How Will These Funds Be Used?
All funds will go towards creating, distributing, marketing and properly releasing the album. The goal that is set only covers a small portion of the total expense. We would love to do as many songs as possible so if we go BEYOND the goal that just means MORE SONGS!

Let's Help Get Spence into the Studio

First Review of My Novel Nine to Dine on Amazon

2013-05-12T06:16:00.001-07:00

Nine to Dine Review

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful

5.0 out of 5 stars 5.0 out of 5 stars: wow and double wow, May 11, 2013
By
pokey - See all my reviews

This review is from: Nine to Dine (Kindle Edition)this book left me almost breathless as i sped through each page trying to discover "who-done-it " ??? the pace is fast and the author, while writing a story line that has been somewhat premised before, never lets you down with its twists and turns. just when you think you have it figured out ................surprise. you don't.
i rarely do reviews but just had to share with you [s] a great story well worth your time.

Nine to Dine by William Butler on Amazon Kindle for $0.99

2013-04-24T13:05:00.001-07:00

Amazon Kindle

In the tradition of Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None, comes...Nine to Dine!

Eight people are invited to a relaxing weekend. Ten people with secrets they want to keep hidden. A deadly game that only one person can win.

Ripley Luder is throwing a weekend getaway for eight close friends. He has promised relaxation, good food and killer entertainment. When Ripley tells his guests that one of them will murder him, everything changes.

Each guest is given an envelope with another guest's secret and the location of forty million dollars, that is hidden somewhere in the house.

Only when they wake the next day and find their host dead, they start suspect each other of his murder!

And eventually one by one they will fall...

GET YOUR COPY TODAY!!

AMAZON KINDLE

Now I Lay Me Down To Reap

2012-09-23T04:00:00.000-07:00

Now I Lay Me Down To Reap – the Newest Anthology from Sirens Call Publications

The eighth commandment; thou shalt not steal. But everyone covets something that isn't theirs...

Wander down the darker paths of the minds of twelve brilliantly talented authors as they conjure stories of retribution, deceit and betrayal.

Would you chance your family’s fate to the gods in return for a favor? Are the finer things in life worth having once you know the cost someone else had to pay for you to indulge in them? Would you give up your most addictive passion so that others might reap the benefits, regardless of the reward? Or perhaps, the chance at a fresh start and a new life appeals to you? Are you prepared to reap what you have sown?

Within this collection, you’ll find tales all too believable and beyond your oddest imaginings. But there is one thing you will not find… In this anthology, there are no happy endings.

Featuring the literary talents of Ryan C. Anderson, Thomas James Brown, Aspen deLainey, John H. Dromey, Amber Keller, Christian A. Larsen, Jeffery X Martin, Lori Michelle, Sergio Palumbo, J. Marie Ravenshaw, Bill Read, and Adrian Tchaikovsky.

***

Now I Lay Me Down To Reap is available at:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon IT

Amazon DE

Amazon FR

Amazon ES

Amazon Print

CreateSpace

Smashwords

Barnes & Noble

Excerpts:

Fugue State – Christian A. Larsen

“It was Tuesday, August 5th, and now that he knew it, he didn’t know if that information helped him or not. His eyes drifted downward over the text of the top story; something about how one of the candidates was promising tax breaks to gay couples. Was he for that or against it? Was he a Republican? A Democrat? A Libertarian? Constitution? Green? These were the kinds of issues that made people run to their ideological bunkers. He had an inkling that he might have come down hard one way or the other before… well, before he came to in the alley, an alien in his own skin.

His eyes refocused on the glass of the newspaper box, and he saw his own reflection. There was nothing familiar in the face staring back at him, and he was a little distressed to find that he was thinning and graying up top, either prematurely (which he hoped) or right on time for a man in his mid-40s. Either way, he didn’t really feel old, at least until he tried to stand up and his knees crackled like a bowl of Rice Krispies. Did he have bad knees? Some injury from his past (assuming he had a past)…”

Gable’s Leatherworks – J. Marie Ravenshaw

“A shrill scream rang out across the pasture.

Abigail snapped her head up upon hearing the jarring sound. A brisk evening breeze filtered into the room, sending a chill up her spine. She glanced up at the fluttering curtains, pushed out her chair, and stood. As she walked over to the open window, she rubbed her arms trying to stave off the goose bumps.

With her palms resting on the window jambs, she gazed out over the pasture. There was nothing out there that she could see, but she had an unnerving feeling that she was being watched. She knitted her brow and allowed her eyes to scan the field one last time before closing the window and drawing the curtain. Like every other night, the scream had come from the direction of Mrs. Gable’s barn…”

Me and the Monster – Ryan C. Anderson

“There was something sinister about Phil Winikoff, and even though his skin was sun-kissed and he smelled of expensive, French cologne, I could see the darkness that festered deep below.

“Dr. Skidmore, your two o’clock.” My receptionist protracted his neck around the door.

“Send him in,” I said.

Phil passed through the threshold of my office like a wounded creature, being mindful of his steps and careful of his surroundings, fearful of some far off thing beyond the boundaries of my spackled walls. He reached for my hand and thanked me for seeing him on such short notice. “It’s really hard to find good people these days,” he said in shallow utter. His fingers wrapped around mine like tentacles, and I could feel the sweat of his palms mash together with mine. His eyes were beady bloodshot balls of sleepless jelly. We stood there, our hands entangled in a strange, sweaty chimera, until finally he released and I was able to skulk back to the safety of my imported, Carpathian Elm desk…”

Sweet Addiction – Aspen deLainey

“Aeryn peered cautiously around the corner of the schoolyard. Although dusk had fallen, that didn’t necessarily mean they’d be gone. He just had to ensure guardians weren’t nearby.

Standing silently, he considered prancing towards the swings. Two, he counted. Two of the precious things. Just waiting for him!

He shook his mane and tail free of any tangles. He rubbed his hooves on a convenient bush. He licked his lips. He so wanted to look enticing.

A snarl came from directly behind him.

Aeryn didn’t even chance a look. Better safe than sorry. He galloped off, down some alleys, hoping he’d evaded pursuit. Damn he was getting hungrier and hungrier. Finally, he stopped in a shadowy alley, panting…”

Good Taste – Adrian Tchaikovsky

“The instructions said not to eat for 24 hours beforehand, but, seriously? There are articles in the Geneva Convention about that sort of thing. I had a light breakfast; that was all. The appointment was 11.30am and I read somewhere that bacon gets digested faster than most foods anyway. Or maybe I dreamt that.

And if I had a Twix on the tube, well, I have blood sugar issues. A man of certain dimensions needs a bit of an energy boost when he’s out and about. I can’t think that I was setting back medical science a hundred years or anything, not just a few mouthfuls of chocolate…”

The Game – Amber Keller

Stephanie sang the song on the radio like an angel. Her ice blue eyes closed, her head tilted back, the sun glowing off of her cheeks and shoulders, she had her knees tucked up into her chest. Her golden hair spilled down her shoulders in soft waves.

David reached into his pocket and rubbed the small, velvet box. This was the moment he had been anticipating for weeks. He would ask her when they got to the lake.

The winding road was starting to become covered lightly by leaves. With fall almost here, the late afternoon sun warmed the breeze that swirled through the trees, bringing the smells of summer’s last moments. A golden glow cast across the hood of his car as he crested a small hill, reflecting into his vision and temporarily blinding him.

David’s eyes filled with tears and he rubbed at them vigorously to try and clear his vision. White spots danced before his eyes, and he let off the gas, not able to see the road.

Stephanie’s piercing scream suddenly filled the car.

“DAVID! LOOK OUT!”

You Should Have – Lori Michelle

“Henry Jones liked order. His clothes had to hang in his closet a certain way. His coffee had to be made just right. Anything that disrupted his schedule was immediately loathed. This OCD-esque perfection drove everyone crazy and it wasn’t surprising that Henry lived alone. So when he found out that his secretary had to take leave for personal reasons, he wandered through the bank in a haze.

That’s when she walked into his life.

He saw her across the room and tried not to stare. She had an air about her that he hadn’t seen in a woman in a long time. She looked over at him and smiled; he was taken aback by how confident she was. He smiled back and walked over to her.

“Can I help you miss...”

A False Odor of Sanctity – John H. Dromey

“Financial arrangements had been made in advance, so there was no need for conversation. By the flickering light of a lantern, the two men worked in a grim silence, broken only by the susurrus of twin shovels slicing through the packed earth and an occasional grunt of exertion as the loosened clods were tossed high in the air to land outside the pit.

Farther up in the sky, a gibbous moon played hide and seek with slow-moving clouds. Although more than half of the lunar orb he called home was open intermittently to earthly view on this particular evening, the Man in the Moon could bear witness with only one eye. No one else was watching.

When a new sound emerged from the surrounding shadowy darkness—a faint metallic clinking of chains—the diggers were too absorbed in their work to notice…”

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing! – Jeffery X Martin

“One time, when you were little, we were in the car. All of us. You, me and your mommy. Your mommy was messing around with the radio in the car, trying to find some music to listen to. She landed on this one station, far right on the dial, and there was an old preacher, rattling on about the End of Days. I made a face. Your mother giggled a little and reached down to change the station.

You were in back, in your car seat, and you said, “Who’s that man talking?”

Your mommy said, “Just some guy telling stories.”

You laughed and clapped your hands. “He’s funny! He talks funny,” you said. “He says funny things!”

And the guy did have that cadence going on, that deep Southern rhythm, adding extra syllables onto his words. “Jesus-ah! He is-ah coming back-ah! He is coming-ah! To retrieve his people-ah! To take his people-ah! Into the sky-ah! Up to his holy kingdom-ah! The holy kingdom of heaven-ah!”

Beasts of Burden – Thomas James Brown

“Four months ago we could barely afford to eat and now this... By the Seven Courts of the Seven Sins, the land itself would not satisfy you, Frederick!”

For three generations, Hanker Farm had endured in the Dorsetshire region. When just a boy, Coll had watched studiously from the fields as his father managed the land. The lessons in those days were many, and taught the merits of diligence, hard work and glistening sweat, in favour of parchment or prayers.

“As you reap, so shall you sow,” his father used to say, “sow bad seeds and happen you’ll have a bad harvest.” Even in those early days, he had realized his father was imparting more than agricultural wisdom; he was a moral man with just beliefs, which did not indulge slovenliness or ill manners…”

The Fairies in the Wood – Bill Read

“Even from a distance, Edward Carter had no problem spotting her. Every other arriving passenger was garbed in suits, anoraks or tee-shirts - but not his daughter. Even though he hadn’t seen her for six months, there was no mistaking the figure in the dress standing next to an out of date poster advertising a talk at the village library on local superstitions. She was even wearing a straw hat – she looked like a character out of a Pollyanna book.

“Sorry I wasn’t here to meet you off the train,” he apologised giving her a hug. “I took the wrong turning on the way to the station – I don’t know the roads around here yet.”

“That’s all right dad,” replied Maribel pecking him on the cheek. “The train got in at 10.30 and I’ve hardly been waiting at all. A few seconds is hardly a matter of life and death…”

The Eater – Sergio Palumbo

“Only a few people really know the true story of Jenő De Carignano. In fact, he was a peculiar nobleman living in an ancient and windy European seaport. He was born in a northern Italian town in 1800, long ago, but nowadays he doesn’t think much about that city. It has been a very long time since the man was back there and, with the passing of the years, he has almost forgotten its name.

But, the name of the place wasn’t important anyway.

Dark haired, with a bristly, curly beard, and two wild eyes on a face glowing with health, Jenő was 32 years old when he got married for the first time. The birth of his son, Flavio, soon followed. The wedding was expensive and ostentatious, but as he wasn’t from one of the most famous noble families in town, it was nothing like the wonderful marriages of the richest families in that community. Anyway, the man was very relieved about that, as he was mainly an introvert, and very mean in general. He had a lot of reasons to behave that way: Jenő was an alchemist and had discovered something very important while busy with his other studies, something he didn’t want to share with anyone else…”

I Want My...I Want My MDNA--Bang Vs Madonna

2012-04-25T10:40:00.005-07:00

During my career as a novelist I have known wonders! I became an International Bestseller within a few weeks of my first novel hitting the internet. While my career as a novelist flourished I had the opportunity to meet many...many different famous superstars. One in particular is the one and only Madonna! Yes, Ms. MDNA herself! Come join me as I sit down with Madonna and do her very first Blog interview. And I share intimate photos of us hanging out by the water cooler we call FAME.

W: Let me tell you that I wanted to thank you so much, Madonna, for meeting me today to allow me to interview you for Bang Noir.

M: You're very welcome...it's a pleasure.
W: I'm just so excited to see you again. I think everyone here is just as excited as I am...maybe more.
M: I hope so...Hello everyone (waves and laughs)
W: So let's get started shall we. Please tell everyone about the first time you met me?
M: (pauses) You mean when you first met me...right?
(silence)
W: No, when you first met me. I know when I first met you.
M: And when was that?
W: It was on George Clooney's Yatch.
M: That's right. You were drunk and hitting on George. (laughs) You know he wasn't that into you right?
W: I think he was.
M: (shakes her head and looks embarrassed) I don't think so. I actually remember him trying to have you removed from the Yatch.
W: Ok, so moving on. (I clear my throat) So through out your whole career you seemed to have been influenced by one thing...
M: And what is that?
W: Me.
M: (she laughs) That's just not true. I mean I am influenced by all kinds of things. But not by you. I actually think that I influenced you.

W: I can't believe you just said that.
M: (cocks eyebrow) Well it's true. You have to face the truth sometimes...(smiles) in your career (adjusts herself in the chair)
W: I do think you were influenced by me. I mean look at some of your work. Bad Girl was about me.
M: That's not true.
W: It is. It was about me and my party life in the nineties. You were there watching me act out because of my daddy issues. I like how you changed it to Bad Girl instead of Bad Boy.
M: (shakes her head) It really wasn't about you...I promise.
W: So let's talk about other references you have of me in your music...
M: Wait... is this what the interview is all about?
W: What do you mean?
M: I mean are we just going to talk about you and how you have taken my ideas and twisted them into referencing you. None of it is true.
W: (I laugh)
M: You know during my interview in the UK I mention that there are people out there who use my name to make them famous and you know who I was talking about?
W: GaGa?
M: Well...(shakes head yes)but mostly you. If anyone is referencing anyone else it would be you about me.
W: But Madonna, I wouldn't do that. I love you.
M: Well...it doesn't show. I didn't come here today to talk about you. I never used you in any of my work.

W: That's just not true.
M: When did I do that?
W: You reference both my book Bang and its sequel Smoking Gun on your new album MDNA.
M: (silent)
W: Yes. Gang Bang is all about my Novel Bang and in Girl Gone Wild you reference its sequel Smoking Gun. So you see...I'm not just making this up.
M: (laughs) You got me. I guess I can't argue with that. (smiles)
W: I'm sorry. I do love you and I hope you are not mad at me.
M: Of course not. I love you as well.
W: Well I guess that's all I have for you today. I'm sure we can do this again soon.
M: Not a chance in hell...(gets up and walks off)
W: Call me babe. Huggies and kisses.

Well that was all I had right now of the interview with Madonna. It was an amazing time. I mean after all I hadn't seen her in years. I am sure I will get another sit down with The Queen of Pop soon. Of course you guys will be the first to know.

***If you haven't guess this whole interview has been a fabrication of my imagination. I have never met Madonna in my life time--though I will be going to her concert. :D I will add that if this was a true interview then I would have passed out somewhere between meeting her and talking. As for the photos...The one of me with my arm around Madonna I took Guy Richies's head off and placed mine. The other photo are of me and a look-alike posing for the camera.
Sorry this pisses you off it is supposed to be fun. XO I truly love you Madonna!!

Go and get your copy of Madonna's new album MDNA
And while your on Amazon feel free to get any of my novels: BANG, The House of Balestrom, Time of The Season

Just The Facts...Ma'am

2012-04-24T13:17:00.000-07:00

I came to realize when I started this journey as a writer that it comes with hard work. I actually don't mind the work. It's exciting and full of surprises. It is ever changing and I like that. I'm definitely not bored...:) But I am writing this post most because I am working on the edits to Book Two in the BANG Trilogy. I have to admit, this book is unique.

The Title: SMOKING GUN, drums up a lot in a person's mind. What could happen in this book? After all, a lot of people died in the first one. I am asked why I did that in my books--why kill off a large group of main characters.
The Answer: Because the story could not progress if certain characters remained alive. And when you think about it they were only supporting characters in the big picture.
SMOKING GUN is about perception. You had a perception of the first book, BANG, when it was released. You probably saw it as cut and dry. Sex and violence. Maybe senseless sex and violence. But the fact remains that there are still answers needed and yet a bigger story to be told.
When I sat down to write BANG, I could only think about what I was going to say. What did I want to tell? The story mattered and the plot was thick with twists and turns. I decided to narrow the story into a relationship--I know that sounds strange, but I wanted you to think that it was just your average f'ed up relationship...with f'ed up characters who are all out to get one another, when in reality that was only a small part of what was really going on.
SMOKING GUN, comes in with the reveal. The term Smoking Gun is basically telling you here is the truth. Here are the facts and you have to decide what is right and what is wrong, but hold on...I'm not going to make it too easy for you. There is still a lot happening in the story, because there is something looming around in the background and it's waiting to escape...
SMOKING GUN is a straight-up thriller. Still has f'ed up characters and even more f'ed up situations. I'm behind in my edits and I could kick myself for it. But I promise once it is released you will not be disappointed. Or you will and all I can say to that is that I tried. Which means I will still be writing the next book in the series and I will be talking about all three books.

By the way to all my readers thank you so much for your support. I know my books aren't for everyone, but that is why I write two types of books. One set of the hardboiled reader and the other for the softcore readers. I know it is strange to find a writer who writes from both sides of the brain, but I want to capture you all and share with you my talents.

You can find my books on Amazon: Bang (Book 1)

Chaser -- Indiegogo

2012-04-16T15:02:00.001-07:00

Chaser -- Indiegogo:

Shame = Death

Chaser is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions for the purposes of Chaser must be made payable to Fractured Atlas and are tax-deductible to the extent permitted by law.

The Story

Disconnected from his family, culture, and community, Zachary Gold—a young, promising high school teacher and the son of conservative immigrants—seeks solace in the gay bareback community.

The Impact

As HIV shifts from a life-threatening disease to a manageable "condition," the number of gay men practicing unsafe sex, both out of recklessness and self-injury, continues to grow. We need your help to raise awareness about the alarming complacency surrounding the issue of HIV/AIDS today. As filmmakers, we're not interested in making a judgment about anyone's behavior. Instead, our goal is to start a dialogue about the increasing number of people practicing unsafe sex and ask one simple question: Why?

About the Creators

Sal Bardo's short film Requited made its world premiere at the Seattle International Film Festival in 2011 and has screened at festivals across the country, including Reel Affirmations: Washington D.C.'s International LGBT Film Festival, where Sal won the Audience Award for Best First Time Filmmaker. Requited will be released on DVD later this year. His most recent film, Sam, about gender identity and bullying, is currently making the festival rounds. www.salbardo.com

Hailed as "An Actor to Watch!" by Backstage, Max Rhyser has acted opposite Q-Tip in Nelson George's My Funny Valentine (currently in development) and in One Life to Live, Homeland, A Four Letter Word, Requited, and the BBC series My Hero. His production work includes the successful series In Between Men. Max is a proud member of SAG and AEA, sits on the creative teams of two theater companies, and runs a holistic healing practice in New York. He is dedicated to affecting change through storytelling. www.maxrhyser.com

What We Need & What You Get

Your donation will make it possible for us to start this conversation. The money raised will go directly toward making sure the film is made in the most professional and effective way possible. With your help, we'll be able to assemble a first-rate team and pay for all the costs of the following:

casting
crew
equipment
wardrobe
food
transportation
post-production
and much more!

In addition to helping to fund the film, you'll also receive the perks listed on the right-hand side of this page.

How to Donate

It's simple! Click on the "Contribute Now" button above and choose the amount you'd like to give. You can pay via credit card, debit card, or personal check. Either way, your contribution is safe and secure! All contributions are tax deductible thanks to our partnership with Fractured Atlas.

NOTE: Even if we do not meet our goal, IndieGogo allows us to keep 100% of the funds you donate (minus the standard fee), which will be combined with funds we're actively raising offline. Rest assured that this film will be made and you will be updated every step of the way! For more information, please visit our official Facebook page!

Help Spread the Word!

Even if you can't afford to donate, you can contribute by emailing this page to your friends and sharing it on your Facebook, Twitter, and other social networking sites. Help us tell this important story!

Anthony Pedone Interview - MUDKISS FANZINE

2012-04-10T20:09:00.001-07:00

anthonypedoneinterview - MUDKISS FANZINE:

A great interview for Director Anthony Pedone!! Check it out...

Steve Balderson's The Casserole Club--A Review By William Butler

2012-03-24T08:28:00.000-07:00

The Synopsis:

Steve Balderson’s new film, “The Casserole Club” focuses on a group of mod 1960’s era suburban housewives. Close-knit and neighborly, they are all bent on one-upping each other, trying to prove that each is “the hostess with the mostess.” They begin a recipe club, and hold dinner parties, testing out their new casseroles. But when the gatherings become increasingly focused on boozy flirtation, and more than recipes start getting swapped, the story moves swiftly from stylized and campy to a drama about irresponsibility, selfishness, and damaged people.

The Casserole Club--IMDB Page

The Trailer:

The Review:

The Casserole Club by Steve Balderson is one dish you can't stop eating. You will savor each bite as if it were your last. What leads from a quaint get together of friends and neighbors, turns into an exploration of dark inner feelings and desires. Steve Balderson brings you into the lives of five couples: Sugar (Susan Traylor) and Conrad (Kevin Richardson), Kitty (Starina Johnson) and Sterling (Garrett Swann), Jerome (Daniela Sea) and Leslie (Mark Booker), Marybelle (Jennifer Grace) and Max (Michael Maize), and finally Florene (Pleasant Gehman) and Burt (Hunter Bodine).

Sugar (Traylor) suggests that the women make a casserole dish and bring it to a little get together and let their husbands judge who made the best dish. The winner gets a T-shirt that says "Queen Casserole". This is only the beginning of what lies beneath the happy exterior of these home makers. The Casserole Club starts off as a comedy but quickly changes directions into a drama from this point on.

After the first party turns into a wife swap, the women feel awkward and the men seem to move on. It was interesting to see how the two sexes deal with the situation of that night. You also start to discover the issues lying underneath each character. Everything from cutting, self-loathing and sadness, homosexuality to questioning ones own desires in love and marriage. The way people tend to deceive themselves to make their lives better.

Set to the backdrop of the 1969 moon landing, as well as some major moments in history, which I might add are placed well within the film to set the mood of the scenes. The music goes very well with the current mood of the scenes as well. Another theme in the movie are the colors. I have to say that Steve Balderson knows how to weave visuals and sound together like a master chef. His direction is on point with what he is trying to portray to the audience. The actors bring each character to life and make you feel sympathy for them. You become connected with the characters and their issues. You can actually say to yourself that you know someone like this.

Overall, The Casserole Club is an excellent film that serves up a tasty dish that will tantalize ones taste buds. I highly recommend this movie to join anyone's DVD library. It's one movie you can watch over and over again, only to discover something you missed the first time around.

Check out The Casserole Club on it's official page at Dikenga.com: The Casserole Club

Bang vs Julianne Snow

2012-03-20T05:20:00.000-07:00

Please welcome Julianne Snow to Bang Noir! I am very grateful that she has come here to share with us her first novel DAYS WITH THE UNDEAD. Go check her out!! and buy her book, it's great!!

About the Author - Julianne Snow

It was while watching Romero's Night of the Living Dead at the tender age of 6 that solidified Julianne’s respect of the Undead. Since that day, she has been preparing herself for the (inevitable) Zombie Apocalypse. While classically trained in all of the ways to defend herself, she took up writing in order to process the desire she now covets; to bestow a second and final death upon the Undead.

As the only girl growing up in a family with four children in the Canadian countryside, Julianne needed some form of escape. Her choice was the imaginations of others which only fostered the vibrancy of her own. The horror and forensic/crime thriller genres top her list of favourites, but she can never turn down a good science fiction, fantasy or mystery read.

Julianne appears in the anthology Women of the Living Dead with a story entitled The Living Dead at Penderghast Manor. Look for her short stories in future anthologies. Days with the Undead: Book One is her first full-length book, the basis of which can be found in her popular web serial of the same name.

Days with the Undead: Book One Synopsis:

It’s a journal of survival.

Five people set out to escape the Undead who have risen too close to home. Join the emotional and physical struggle as they began on the third day after the awakening of Brooks VanReit, as they are recorded from the point of view of Julie, a former pathologist and part-time survivalist.

Each entry is geared toward helping those who want to help themselves and maybe give a few that don’t a swift kick in the ass. Join our group of survivors on their journey through these Days with the Undead.

The Post

Bang Noir has been one of my go-to blogs for quite some time so imagine my delight in finding out that I would be guesting with the handsome and charming William Butler. William is the author of a great many books, all of which are great – but those of you that follow his blog already know that. Taking into account the fact that I have been influenced by many of the Indie authors that I now call friends, I took a look into my past and remembered…

My Earliest Literary Horror Influences

I have been a fan of horror since the first moment that I can remember. Books, films - you name it and I will find a way to read it or watch it. I love the momentary feeling that being frightened creates within my body. Ruminating on this topic, I can’t help but remember back to those first books that helped to cement my love of the genre.

The first horror story that I ever read was The Mist by Stephen King. I was around eight years old at the time and I remember being scared by that ominous fog that rolled in. Sometime in the next few days, a layer of light fog rolled over the landscape outside of my window and I can remember the feeling of dread that overcame me. Luckily, it passed without incident.

After reading The Mist, I recall asking my elementary school librarian, Mr. Connor, at the age of ten if there was anything that he could recommend for me. I had spent the previous few years reading my brother’s Stephen King novels and my mother’s Robin Cook books so I was looking for something new. My elementary school only went as high as grade six at the time, so it’s understandable that there were limited offerings from Scholastic available.

Some might look at what followed as an interesting reaction to a ten year old’s request to stock horror stories, but Mr. Connor ordered one per month for the school library. Whether it was his desire to foster my love of reading or a twisted way to suss out my limitations for horror, none of it really mattered. I was going to get access to new and exciting reads.

The first book that came in was Slumber Party by Christopher Pike. Admittedly it was Young Adult Horror and I was used to reading the full-fledged freak outs, but I devoured it! I took it home on a Friday and by the time I brought it back the following Monday, I had read it three times. That was the only drawback to being a fast reader – I’d have nothing else to read until the next Scholastic order came in…

After devouring Slumber Party, Mr. Connor tried to push Roald Dahl’s The Witches at me and while it was a good book, it was something I had already read. Knowing that I was unlikely to get any new or gratifying horror reads from my school library, I talked my mother into taking me to my local public library for some time among the stacks.

Now of course I had been there before and mainly it was to get additional works by King and Cook but admittedly, there were things in these books that had gone over my head the first time I had read them. Reading them again in adulthood has straightened quite a few of those things out. Discovering an author who wrote horror geared a little more toward my current age was like Christmas! As I scoured the racks for more by Christopher Pike, I found titles like Chain Letter, Gimme a Kiss and The Party. It was only a few titles at the time, but I had certainly found something new that I could really get into.

Quite by chance, I happened to glance up at the end of the bookshelves as I was preparing to leave with my new finds and discovered that the librarians had made finding new authors a little easier. Listed on pages of letter-sized paper were recommendations for other authors based on who you already enjoyed. That list held a few names but those names I would become very familiar with: Dean Koontz, Caroline B. Cooney and Richie Tankersley Cusick. I would have to say that Pike and Koontz along with King and Cook kept me quite busy. I was a voracious reader and would pretty much read anything that struck my fancy. Along with horror, I was reading a lot of science fiction mainly from Ray Bradbury, James Herbert and Jack Finney. It was a time of literary exploration and I enjoyed each and every minute of it.

If you’re interested in reading the posts and interviews that have made up the beginning of my Days with the Undead: Book One tour, you can mosey on over to The Sirens Call and check them out!

***

It was while watching Romero's Night of the Living Dead at the tender age of 6 that solidified Julianne’s respect of the Undead. Since that day, she has been preparing herself for the (inevitable) Zombie Apocalypse. While classically trained in all of the ways to defend herself, she took up writing in order to process the desire she now covets; to bestow a second and final death upon the Undead. As the only girl growing up in a family with four children in the Canadian countryside, Julianne needed some form of escape. Her choice was the imaginations of others which only fostered the vibrancy of her own.

Days with the Undead: Book One is her first full-length book, the basis of which can be found in her popular web serial of the same name. You can find Julianne’s The Living Dead of Penderghast Manor in the anthology Women of the Living Dead and an upcoming story in Sirens Call Publications first anthology Childhood Nightmares: Under The Bed.

Where To Get It At

Date Released - February 29th, 2012

ISBN: 1468007998

ISBN-13: 978-1468007992

Available in print and digital formats.

Purchase Links - Print:

CreateSpace: https://www.createspace.com/3736479

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Days-Undead-Book-Julianne-Snow/dp/1468007998/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330611569&sr=8-1

Purchase Link - Digital:

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/137213

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Days-Undead-Book-One-ebook/dp/B007F14OTA/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1330471120&sr=8-2

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007F14OTA

Amazon DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B007F14OTA

Amazon FR: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B007F14OTA

Amazon ES: https://www.amazon.es/dp/B007F14OTA

Amazon IT: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B007F14OTA

The Bang Trilogy- Book Covers

2012-03-14T14:20:00.000-07:00

Tim Jones had everything planned out. He was going to tell his wife, Shelley, that he still loved her. He didn't care if she cheated on him with his best friend, Frank.
He wanted Shelley back and was ready to move on...
That was until someone shot him...
It all began with a BANG. It sounds so simple and yet could be the beginning for any movie or book. But did Tim shoot himself or did someone try to kill him? And an even bigger question is WHY? A BANG is only a small portion of what is happening in this novel. Bang carries you through suspects and crimes committed by each of the characters--some worse than others. Noir at its best! This dark story has it all. Lies, deciet, sex, and murder. You wont believe what you read and will enjoy the thrill ride to the end.

LIES, SEX, DECEPTION and MURDER all come into play in this twisted sequel to William Butler's BANG. Claire Newman is at it again as she manipulates Tim Jones and a few new faces into her web of deceit. As for Tim, he has his own problems. With a fragmented memory, he sets out to forget the past and work on his future with a new relationship. But not even Claire will let Tim forget that faithful night he was shot. With twisted lies and truths twisted Claire won't rest until she has what she's set out to do...and the results could spell DEATH for a lot of people.

The story continues from the first book. A lot is going on and if you think that BANG was just about Tim Jones then you have a lot to learn...

Book 3 in the trilogy. Smoked pics up an hour before the last book ended. Talk about double crosses!! This book will bring all three books together and give you the roller coaster ride of your life!!

Hold on to something baby, you're gonna be blown away.

BANG Vs. ONLY CHILD

2012-03-12T18:38:00.000-07:00

Where to help with this project:

Kickstarter.com

ABOUT THIS PROJECT

ONLY CHILD is the second feature-length film in the Woman's Picture Series, created by Evelyn Avenue Productions. The film features Grace Zabriskie (Big Love, Twin Peaks) and Amy LaVere, who play an estranged mother and daughter with a hidden secret between them. As mother searches for daughter, trying to retrace her steps after a sudden disappearance, the women's shared background comes into sharper focus, revealing a strange and destructive bond.

ONLY CHILD is a modern day mother/daughter noir with influences as diverse as PSYCHO, THREE WOMEN, NOW, VOYAGER, and MILDRED PIERCE. The locales are the typical haunts of noir: neglected roadside motels, sun faded diners, and homes that hide menace under a veneer of fancy decor. The characters are trapped in the past but trying to move away from it. Their identities are fluid and merge, making it harder for them to know themselves and each other.

WHY KICKSTARTER AND WHAT DO YOU GET OUT OF IT?

We need to raise $20,000 to start filming in April. We’ve raised the majority of our budget, but we’re not “there” just yet. Reaching our Kickstarter goal is crucial to our success.

We’ve tried to come up with creative incentives to offer you for helping us out, things that give you something besides a short lived warm fuzzy feeling. I've looked to my collaborators at Evelyn Avenue for help, and they've been generous enough to offer you something in return. The incentives of our campaign are a diverse sampling of the talented people who intersect at Evelyn Avenue Productions.

Of course, we'll be trying to make a really good film, as well.

WHO ELSE IS SUPPORTING THIS FILM?

Recently I was awarded the 2012 Film/Video grant by Creative Capital for theWoman's Picture Series and the work at Evelyn Avenue. 46 artists were chosen for this grant, out of over three thousand applicants. Creative Capital offers support and resources to its recipients and helps move projects like Woman's Picture toward completion and success.

HOW WILL YOUR DONATION BE USED?

Your donation will go toward helping us shoot the film in April. Your help now, combined with Creative Capital’s support, will give us the last boost we need to make this film possible, completing our budget goal. Thanks for your willingness to help make the film.

WHAT IS WOMAN'S PICTURE?

A year ago, we started a series called Woman’s Picture (read a review here), a related collection of stories inspired by the women’s films of the ‘30s, ‘40s, and ‘50s. The series is an homage to my childhood memories of my grandmothers and the films which remind me of them. I think of these cinematic portraits as an answer song, a way to recreate some of the stories I grew up hearing about the women in my family, their lives and the ways they were judged and viewed.

Part of what motivates me to do this series is my frustration with the way women are often depicted on screen. Hollywood and even many independent films seem to narrow down women characters in ways that contradict my own experience and the experience of most of the people I know. I want to see women characters who are as complex and inscrutable as the women I grew up around, and want to give the actresses I admire material to reflect that real life complexity on film.

The first feature film in the series (see trailer above) stars Ann Magnuson (as Miriam), Amy LaVere (pictured below as her character Loretta), and Calpernia Addams(as Ingrid). I was inspired by these actresses and wrote their parts explicitly for them. I love the women I work with and want to see them do something special on film. I try to write stories for them that provide them opportunities to do something unique, hopefully their best work, something people haven’t seen them do before maybe, something they haven’t tried to do themselves or been allowed to do.

Some of the related shorts in the Woman’s Picture series are featured on evelynavenue.com/videos/.

ONLY CHILD follows up with the character of Loretta. Along with Amy LaVere and Grace Zabriskie, ONLY CHILD features Angela Dee and Lindsey Roberts in principal roles.

WHY PERFUME?

When we started the Woman’s Picture series, I contacted my favorite perfumer, Zurich’s Andy Tauer (pictured above), about collaborating on a group of fragrances inspired by the characters in the films. Perfume was a big part of my childhood and plays a big role in the memories I have of the women in my family. Perfume is memory; like noir it merges past and present. Andy and I wanted to create scents that work with the films, enhancing the complexity of the characters even more. For this kickstarter campaign, Andy has created several exclusive items inspired by the stories of Loretta and her mother. Visit his blog.

Also, visit our blog evelynavenue.com, 'like' us on Facebook, and follow us onTwitter.

BANG Vs. THE UNDEAD

2012-03-06T19:59:00.000-08:00

JULIANNE SNOW IS COMING TO BANG NOIR!! CHECK OUT HER BOOK FOR HER BLOG TOUR. A POSSIBLE QUESTION AND ANSWER ON MARCH 20TH!! BE HERE FOR JULIANNE SNOW'S GUEST POST...

DAYS WITH THE UNDEAD - BOOK 1

Press Release - Days with the Undead: Book One by Julianne Snow

Days with the Undead: Book One Synopsis:

It’s a journal of survival.

Date Released - February 29th, 2012

ISBN: 1468007998

ISBN-13: 978-1468007992

Available in print and digital formats.

Purchase Links - Print:

CreateSpace: https://www.createspace.com/3736479

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Days-Undead-Book-Julianne-Snow/dp/1468007998/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330611569&sr=8-1

Purchase Link - Digital:

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/137213

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Days-Undead-Book-One-ebook/dp/B007F14OTA/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1330471120&sr=8-2

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007F14OTA

Amazon DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B007F14OTA

Amazon FR: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B007F14OTA

Amazon ES: https://www.amazon.es/dp/B007F14OTA

Amazon IT: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B007F14OTA

About the Author - Julianne Snow

It was while watching Romero's Night of the Living Dead at the tender age of 6 that solidified Julianne’s respect of the Undead. Since that day, she has been preparing herself for the (inevitable) Zombie Apocalypse. While classically trained in all of the ways to defend herself, she took up writing in order to process the desire she now covets; to bestow a second and final death upon the Undead.
As the only girl growing up in a family with four children in the Canadian countryside, Julianne needed some form of escape. Her choice was the imaginations of others which only fostered the vibrancy of her own. The horror and forensic/crime thriller genres top her list of favourites, but she can never turn down a good science fiction, fantasy or mystery read.
Julianne appears in the anthology Women of the Living Dead with a story entitled The Living Dead at Penderghast Manor. Look for her short stories in future anthologies. Days with the Undead: Book One is her first full-length book, the basis of which can be found in her popular web serial of the same name.

2012-02-08T19:42:00.000-08:00

This is a short video of me being destroyed. LOL I had to share it. Check it out and leave a comment. Thanks!!

Bang vs Time of The Season

2012-01-15T12:26:00.000-08:00

I think when I talk about Time of The Season some people get frightened about the content in the book. When actually it is no different from BANG. Well it is slightly different from BANG...BANG is just in a class of its own. But None-the-less, Time of The Season is its own entity. A book unlike any other out there. I did my research very carefully on this book.

Here is a little about my third novel and what I was trying to achieve with it. Time of the Season is on the lines of the noir genre. It is a Hard-boiled thriller set in modern times with noir elements. In it you have a femme fatale, a man who is self-destructive and down on his luck, and a protagonist who is flamboyant and dangerous (mafia like character). Throw boxing into the mix with a plot to steal 10 million dollars and then murder someone and you got Time of The Season.

If you read books like James M. Cain or even watched his movies like The Postman Always Rings Twice or Double Indemnity...then that's where I am going. You can also check out the movie The Set-up (1949). But it doesn't require all that work to read this novel, but all of that and more is the basic influence of the novel. Overall, the novel itself represents a relationship from beginning to end...like an abusive relationship...which is supposed to make you stronger and fight back.

A Review of My Novel The House of Balestrom

2011-12-28T18:58:00.000-08:00

ALL BOOKS REVIEWS

A BOOK REVIEW BY: PETER KLEIN

Genre: Murder mystery

Title: THE HOUSE OF BALESTROM

Author: William Butler

Warning! Reading this novel may cause anyone belonging to the 99% to have a very low opinion

of the super rich 1%. This murder mystery has all the elements of a gothic who done it: a mansion on an island and a host of characters who might be guilty of multiple crimes. but are certainly guilty of making other’s lives miserable, and reminds me a bit of an Agatha Christie story, but without a Miss Marple. To get to the quick of it, the story begins when a school teacher, Sara, and her school teacher husband, David, are asked to attend a funeral on a private island by her sister, Susan, whose husband Victor, died as a result of a boating accident or was murdered. Susan is presumed guilty of murdering her husband by most of Balestrom family and Sara begins to doubt the innocence of her sister she tries to defend as evidence mounts that her sister has lied and keep secrets from her for years. Just for starters, the recently widowed Susan never let her sister Sara know she was married until asking her to come to the funeral and this wasn’t the first time she has become a widow. Twice before she was married to rich men and twice before her husbands died under mysterious circumstances!

The plot line follows many twists and turns, woven with numerous lies and deceptions, plus the possibility of ghosts on the prowl, who might be guilty of some murders of their own! Innocence in this story proves to be a relative idea in the face of money and its power to corrupt even love. The Balestrom family does seem cursed but the curse might be no more than the result of the lies they tell to protect the family name and fortune. You be the judge.

William Butler, born in Morehead City, NC, has written several novels and short stories. He moved around a lot as a child, living in various places until his family settled back in NC, where he now lives. He runs the blog Bang Noir and writes articles for examnier.com.

Highly Recommended, especially for those who love trying to sort truth from lies and discover who is guilty of what. Reviewer: Peter Klein Allbooks Reviews.

Available at: Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Title: THE HOUSE OF BALESTROM

Author: William Butler Publisher:

CreateSpace (August 31, 2011)

ISBN: 10: 1456523457

ISBN-13: 978-1456523459

Pages:290

Price: $16.00 paperback

Price:$0.99 Kindle